


Sick Day

by Ecrivaisseur



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Sick day fluff, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 19:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6022534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ecrivaisseur/pseuds/Ecrivaisseur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot. Bucky's sick, and Steve decides to stay home with him. Oh, yeah, and it's Valentine's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is a belated-Valentine's Day one-shot. My first Stucky fic, so I hope you enjoy it!

Sick Day

A Stucky One-Shot 

“You are sick,” whispers a pajama-clad Steve Rogers as he hovers concernedly over his husband, who is currently scrunched up against a plush pillow in bed. The covers are pulled up to his chin and over his ears, as if a deadly snow storm were about to rain down and he needed to protect himself from it with a shield of a warm blankets.

“I am not sick,” Bucky Barnes murmurs matter-of-factly back to his husband, remerging momentarily from the cocoon he’d formed around himself of sheets and covers. He looks up at Steve with dreary eyes, dark circles and a sweating face that drips with perspiration. He looks terrible.

“Uh, you are definitely sick,” Steve repeats, placing the back of his hand against the front of Bucky’s forehead. The temperature that greets his skin is like heat from a furnace.

“Am not.”

“Yeah, you are, Bucky.”

“No, I’m not,” Bucky firmly repeats once more, before a sudden wave rolls up inside of him and he lets out a horrendous sneeze that sounds more like a volcanic eruption than an expulsion of air from his nose, one that Steve is almost positive every other resident in the apartment building they live in, if not the whole block, heard. “Okay, maybe I am. . . a little,” the man concedes, letting out a groan and a field of sniffles. “But just a little. I’ll be over it by tomorrow.”

“I’d say more than a little,” Steve replies, passing the man a box of tissues from the nightstand, which is received appreciatively. “You can’t go to work like this.”

Bucky presses one of the tissue to his nose. “I have to, I’ve got that meeting with Tony- ”

“You can reschedule that. I’m sure Tony Stark wouldn’t want you spreading your germs all over his office and getting him and everyone else sick.” Steve bends over and plants a soft, gentle kiss lovingly on the top of his husband’s head as he reaches for the phone. “You can take a sick day.”

“I suppose your right,” Bucky grumbles after a moment of thought, scratching his forehead as his husband pats his shoulder tenderly. “What are you doing?” he asks as he watches Steve dial a number on the phone.

“There’s no way I’m going to leave you here all alone to fend for yourself while you’re sick, Bucky. That would be very un-husbandly of me,” Steve replies as he presses the phone to his ear and waits for the number to ring, “I’m calling in sick today, too. And then I’m going to get us some breakfast.”

“I’m not helpless,” Bucky says, reaching for another tissue though he accidentally knocks it onto the floor, where it bounces beyond his reach. He falls back onto his pillow as he grumbles at his failure.

Steve smiles as he picks up and hands it back to the other man. “Yeah, you kinda are.”

Bucky crosses his arms as he sits up in bed, his back sliding up against the headboard. “Fine, I guess I might be a. . . a little helpless.”

* * *

 

The heels of Steve’s boots thump against the ground as he stomps his feet onto the door matt that rests just outside their door, getting out all the drizzly, moist snow off his shoes that had accumulated there while he’d gone down the street to pick up some breakfast from one of Bucky’s favorite little pastry shops, about a block away near Madison Square. Steve knows his husband hates having dirt trekked into their apartment, so he takes extra precaution to make sure he shoes are relatively clean before proceeding inside his and Bucky’s apartment.

In one hand he balances a card-board tray carrying two, steaming cups of dark coffee, and in his other hand he carries a paper-sack filled with nice, warm doughnuts, knowing full-well his husband would appreciate the sweet treats. He closes the door shut with his foot behind.

“Bucky?” he calls out as he walks through their living room and past their kitchen.

“I’m still here,” was the hoarse reply that Steve finds waiting for him in their bedroom, and Bucky’s eyes meet his as he enters into the room. The other man’s still enthroned in a sea of blankets on the bed, though he’s managed to sit up more in his seat. Law and Order plays on the TV at the end of the room, the remote resting beside Bucky’s legs, his hands not far away from it.

Bucky grins at the delicious aroma that Steve brings with him from the pastries.

“Breakfast is here.” Steve sets down his carry on the nightstand beside Bucky.

“Geez, it took you long enough,” Bucky jokes.

“I was gone for ten minutes!” Steve says back. He had tried to be as quick as he could while going out to get breakfast and pick up some cold medication. “It wasn’t like I was gone for eternity.”

“Well, at least I had Olivia Benson to keep me company.”

Steve dips his hand into the paper sack and retrieves one of the sugary pastries from its depths. With a hopeful expression painted on his face, he hands it to Bucky and awaits his response. “Eat up, Buck.”

Bucky takes it and looks at the treat for a moment. A sweet smiles dances on his lips as he turns and looks back at his husband. “A heart?” he says, his eyes darting back to the heart-shaped doughnut with bright red icing that Steve had handed him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Bucky,” Steve smiles, leaning in to plant a kiss on his husband’s lips, not caring if he caught his husband’s illness. Nothing could make him not want to kiss Bucky.

“Oh, that’s right. I’d forgotten, sorry,” Bucky mouths before Steve’s lips meet his. He lays the doughnut down on the side table and wraps his hand around his husband’s neck, drawing him closer.

After a moment, they both break away. “It’s alright. All I want for Valentine’s Day is _you_.” From behind his back, Steve produces a card which he hands to his husband. “Here, this is for you. I also sent some roses to your office for you, but you’re obviously not there so you’ll just get them whenever you go back to work.”

Bucky slides over and pats the empty space beside him on the bed, signaling Steve to join him. He does so, and Bucky squishes his body close to the man, snuggling warmly and wrapping his arms around him as he nestles his head against Steve’s shoulder.

It’s moment’s like these that Steve lives for. Having Bucky in his arms is all he’ll ever need.

Bucky looks up at him. “I really am sorry I forgot.”

“It’s alright, Bucky. You’re enough for me.”

* * *

Bucky dozes off after about an hour of watching television, his unconscious body still draping over Steve, and it remains that way till about lunchtime. Steve’s used to having Bucky’s body touching his - it’s a common occurrence that happens frequently, considering how much time they spend together and the fact that they’re _married_ \- but there’s something about Bucky being sound asleep while on top of him that just feels so differently to Steve. So innocent to him. . .

He glances over at the clock beside him and notices the time. While he would love to spend all day with Bucky on top of him, he knows his husband would appreciate some nice, warm soup for lunch when he wakes up, so he unravels and untangles his husband’s body from his, taking care not to try and wake him, and decides to go pick up lunch for the both of them.

Slipping his wallet in his pocket and grabbing his jacket, he makes his way for the front door. Before he reaches it, however, their is a loud knock.

Steve stops in his tracks and arches an eyebrow. Another knock follows, followed by another, the time that lapses between each knock growing smaller and smaller.

With yet another knock sounding, this time louder than before, Steve walks down the hallway and answers their front door with an expression of curiosity at who it might be, desperately hoping that the noise didn’t wake Bucky from his slumber.

A large bundle of heart-shaped, red balloons greets his face on the other side of the door, and Tony Stark peeks his head around them as he eyes Steve. “ _Finally_ , I knocked like twenty times!”

“What’s going on?” Steve looks the balloons up and down, before his gaze finally settles on Tony. "What are you doing here - Bucky's sick. . ."

“Ask him,” Tony says, maneuvering around the collection of balloons in his hands as he nods his head forward to something behind Steve in the apartment.

“Surprise! Happy Valentine’s Day, Steve,” suddenly croaks a sleepy Bucky in the doorway of their bedroom as Steve turns around, finally realizing what had happened. Their eyes meet, and a grin forms across Bucky’s face. “You _really_ thought I’d forgotten?”

Steve doesn’t bother replying, simply shaking his head and letting the giant kiss he plants on Bucky suffice as his answer. His husband wraps his arms Steve’s wide shoulders, taking him into a hug and drawing their bodies closer together. A spark of heat starts to form between their bodies and-

“Hey, love-birds! Is someone going to take these from me or what?” Tony calls out after letting them have a moment or two, “I do have to get back to the office, you know?”

Steve takes the balloons from him and sets them down on the kitchen counter, his hand still tangled with Bucky’s tightly. They weren’t about to let each other go.

“Thanks again, Tony,” Bucky says with a wink as he closes the door.

As Tony turns around, he hears a rumbling sound from within the apartment, followed by some passionate groaning. “Someone’s going to get some action tonight,” Tony mutters as he walks away, shaking his head a little jealously. “Lucky.”


End file.
